


Without Armor

by lucifers_grace



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Gen, Gender Neutral MC - Freeform, fluff will rot your teeth, hug your goatman, lucio protection squad, lucio x mc - Freeform, pre!main story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 20:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17967200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucifers_grace/pseuds/lucifers_grace
Summary: Lucio’s life was, by definition, perfect. He ruled over a city, had more money than he could be bothered to count (in fact, he had enough money to pay somebody to count it for him) and Vesuvia loved him. There was nothing else he could ask for. He was at the top.Until you had showed up. The little magician apprentice that snuck around in his palace all the time, moving light-footedly enough to startle even him. And when ever you succeeded and he yelped, you did this thing where your whole face brightened up and you laughed, your entire body shaking with it, your cheeks flushing in glee. It was utterly infuriating.





	Without Armor

**Author's Note:**

> Please be aware that [this](https://66.media.tumblr.com/a61cb791fb8e81efe547f336ef0bb411/tumblr_inline_pnjuanfz5Y1wygbjs_500.png) is the unofficial header for this piece of writing.

Lucio’s life was, by definition, perfect. He ruled over a city, had more money than he could be bothered to count (in fact, he had enough money to pay somebody to count it for him) and Vesuvia loved him. There was nothing else he could ask for. He was at the top.

Until you had showed up. The little magician apprentice that snuck around in his palace all the time, moving light-footedly enough to startle even him. And when ever you succeeded and he yelped, you did this thing where your whole face brightened up and you laughed, your entire body shaking with it, your cheeks flushing in glee. It was utterly infuriating. 

Also Mercedes and Melchior had grown way too soft thanks to your constant treats and belly rubs. Lucio wanted you gone, why had Asra even brought you here?

He had wanted to tell you, once. Had the whole speech prepared, silently reciting it as he set out to find you. When he did find you, legs drawn up to your chest, softly chewing on your lip as you couldn’t seem to tear your attention away from the book you were reading, any thought of scolding you had vanished into nothingness. It had taken almost five minutes for you to notice him and when you did, your soft spoken “Can I help you?” had driven then heat to his cheeks.  
“Nothing.” Lucio had mumbled and fled back down the stairs.

Then, once- and mind you, he would deny this to his dying days - he found himself deliberately seeking your presence. You never mentioned it, usually you hardly acknowledged it other than flashing him a tiny smile when he arrived. When had he accepted you nestled in a corner of his room? (It had the best lighting, you would argue and he would have to agree because that’s why he had chosen this room for himself). You would go back to your book after that and Lucio would do what a count did all day - in this case that meant staring at you, wondering whether he wanted you gone or not.

*** 

Development was … interesting from there on. On occasions, you would share a conversation. Meaningless tidbits at first; the weather, work, whatever book you were reading. Then it went on to your magical skills, maybe he was just a little excited to see what you could do. Also how you both learned that curtains burned far too well.

Yet, Lucio got to know you without meaning to. By the end of the month he knew your favorite food, flowers and animal. Where you came from and some facts about your family. And in return? He responded with far less than his usual bolstering. Your presence was gentle, calming. Your honesty dismantled him. Responding with big, exaggerated stories felt wrong.

*** 

“Your mother did what?”

Lucio had never witnessed you agitated, he was not sure he ever wanted to again. You had nearly jumped up from your usual seat on his window sill, feet hitting the ground with enough force that it had certainly hurt. You showed no sign of discomfort, though, none beyond your clenched fists. He suspected, however, that it had little to do with your jumping.

“I am sure you heard me.”  
“It is terrible!”

Ah, there it was. The lingering notion of Monty in the back of his mind, always ready to defend his family’s traditions against the tirade that would surely follow. He was allowed to be angry at his mother for what she had done - though he would have done the same, these days. Someone too weak to take what belonged to him had no place in a war tribe. Either way, this was not yours to criticize.

“Have you ever told anyone?”

The retort that would have ended with your inevitable departure died on his lips. “Of course. It makes for a fantastic story,” was what he came up with instead. Naturally he had never disclosed the full story, but the parts that made him look good were quite well known.

Lucio saw you scoff as you started pacing, slowly circling closer to you. He did not grasp where your reaction stemmed from. As far as he was aware you had never met Morga - likely for the better.

Eventually you came to a stop in front of him, standing almost nose to nose. Were either of you to reach out, it would have taken no effort to touch the other. 

To his surprise, you did just that. One step, then your arms were around his middle, face nestled comfortably into the little crook of his neck. When you gripped his jacket more tightly, he refrained from telling you off. The cost of it being wrinkled was merely a background noise.

“What are you doing?”  
“I am - hugging you?”  
“Why?”

He felt you sigh against his neck, then squeeze some more. Lucio felt his heart drop a little. 

“Because it felt like the right thing to do. Because you deserve it.”

He swallowed audibly, you know doubt felt it with your face snuggled against his throat. Then, maybe, he put both hands on your back - uncharacteristically cautious of causing no harm with his clawed prosthetic - squeezing back. Carefully. Gently. 

_You deserve it._ It was a line saved for later contemplation during a sleepless night. 

_You deserve it._

Did he? 

**Author's Note:**

> [Requests open!](https://astravas.tumblr.com/post/182755690994/open-requests)


End file.
